Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,86
and whether she realized it or not—she had chosen it too.
“Does that not often happen?” Lazarus asked, wanting to test the waters and see how much Thorne might say before demanding some answers of his own.
He hesitated before saying, “In the past, it has only happened twice. Both times when someone entered the waters…” Thorne shook his head as if troubled by those memories. Lazarus could understand why after seeing Quinn nearly die in the way she had. “In both cases, the Maji who entered were drained completely of their magic and the person who held the stone received both. Our bodies are not meant to hold so much, and nature intervenes. They both succumbed to sickness and perished within days.” He wouldn’t say it, but ice froze around his veins and followed them straight to the center of his chest.
“Quinn is improving,” Lazarus said, not sure whether he was trying to convince the other man or himself.
Thorne nodded. “If this is days after, as I suspect it is, I think your vassal might be the first to survive such an encounter. The question I have is: how did you?”
Lazarus looked away, nodding slowly to himself as he toyed with how to answer that question. Thorne was not an ignorant man, nor was he blind.
“If I tell you what happened and how I saved her, you must take a vow of silence—to keep that information between us … my friend,” Lazarus said, knowing that this small sliver of truth would go a long way in keeping Thorne appeased.
The red-headed bastard let out a chuckle. “Alright, Lazarus. What is said between us will stay between us, or may Ramiel strike me dead.” Lazarus hid his smirk as Thorne invoked the vow of silence by the God of balance and justice. While the immortals that created this realm and its Maji might not walk amongst them, they still had a presence here—still had power. To invoke Ramiel and then ignore a vow was asking to be struck by lightning where you stood.
No matter what Lazarus told him now, Thorne wouldn’t breathe a word—not at the risk of angering a God.
“Quinn did everything you told me. She stripped and took the stone into the water under Leviathan’s eye. The waters turned black and began to churn, then the pain came, and she lost consciousness after a few minutes—”
“Minutes?” Thorne interjected.
“Yes.”
The other man’s face turned flushed as he looked first to the ceiling and swore and then looked to the ground, before saying. “It shouldn’t have lasted that long. The ceremony is typically measured in seconds, not minutes.” Lazarus shook his head, not terribly surprised given how her power seemed to astound them at every turn.
“Well, it did, and she fought through it up until her body was too weak to hold herself up anymore. I feared she was going to drown and so I took the chance and went after her.” Behind him, Draeven had been awfully silent for the whole of the conversation, but he sensed his second brewing. The rage Draeven usually worked so hard to keep in check was simmering beneath his skin. They were going to be having their own talk shortly after this.
“How did you get into the water and survive?” Thorne asked, leaning forward.
Lazarus stepped forward and lifted the hem of his tunic to show his chest. Draeven didn’t make a sound, though Thorne’s eyes went truly wide at what he saw before him.
“You’re a—”
“Yes.”
The other man blinked twice and settled back, not nervous, nor afraid, but unsettled. “I had a basilisk in my possession until three days ago,” Lazarus started. “I used it to stave off the power of the stone, but it was stronger than I anticipated and the basilisk was consumed by its magic.” Lazarus paused, knowing whatever was said here and now Thorne could never speak of again. It was best to get it all out and see if he had any information to share about what would become of her. “That same basilisk came out of Quinn’s skin last night when it thought I might try to harm her.”
“She’s now the holder of its soul?” Thorne asked, looking older, more haggard and worn than he had when Lazarus had entered his tree hut mere minutes before.
“And its loyalty,” Lazarus bit out. “They are bonded … deeper than I am with my possessions. I think that when she was dying the basilisk somehow merged with her.” Thorne seemed to consider this for a